


The Greatest Adventure (Is Still To Come)

by LadyMarianne



Category: Robin Hood (BBC 2006)
Genre: About to Die, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Are people still reading fics about RH?, F/M, First fic in over a year!, I still think that Guy is an idiot but I'll try to be fair, Not Canon Compliant, Post-Season/Series 03, Surprises, There are not enough stories about Robin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-24
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-01-22 04:17:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12473296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyMarianne/pseuds/LadyMarianne
Summary: Picks up when season 3 leaves off, with a few changes. After defeating Vaisey, Robin is ready to finally join his wife in the afterlife. Or at least that's what he thinks, until familiar faces return with incredible news.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, all! You might not remember, but once upon a time (a long, long time ago) I sort of promised I would try to write an AU of season 3 of Robin Hood. To be fair, I did start to write said story, but never got around to finish it. Flashforward many months later and ta da! Here it is. I don't know if people are still interested, but I hope they are. It should go without saying that I don't own anything and I'm only doing this for fun.
> 
> Fair warnings: there's going to be angst, there's going to be romance, there's going to be a lot of Robin, but I'm also going to try to see the good in Guy (try being the operative word here). It should be interesting.
> 
> Let me know what you think!

 

**CHAPTER ONE** **.**

Robin of Locksley had never been afraid of dying.

Ever since he could remember he had always been putting himself in what others had called "danger". He had often wandered around Sherwood Forest well after dark. He had borrowed his father's weapons and picked up fights with older kids. Later on in life, he had gone as far as leaving everything behind to follow the King into a war he didn't fully understand, all for the sake of adventure.

This wasn't the first time he was dying –time and time again he had encountered little bumps in the road that had, more often than not, left him at the very brink of death. It would, however, be the last. He was done trying to wriggle his way out of trouble; done hoping to be saved at the last second. He was, in short, done fighting.

Today, it wasn't that he wasn't afraid of dying; today, he actually  _wanted_ to die.

He had been waiting - _hoping, dreaming_ \- for this day for months. Truth be told, it was actually more perfect than he had ever hoped it would be.

_There's no shame in dying for what you believe in_ , he had told Much once, many years ago, right after receiving his first semi-serious wound in the battlefield. His manservant had been tending to him, going on and on about what a tragedy it would be if his master was to get himself killed when they were so far away from home, and so Robin had tried to put him at ease by reminding him that it really wasn't all that bad. Not if one's death meant something; not if by dying one was making a difference. Not if one was part of something bigger.

Not if there were people to carry on with what he had started.

Time had put things into perspective for him. Five years in the desert, killing men whose only fault was to believe in a god that was only slightly different from his own, had made him wonder whether that particular cause was worth carrying on. And yet, had he died then, he would have been fine, because it would have meant that Much would be able to return home. His death would have given his dearest friend his freedom and that -that alone would have been worth it.

He hadn't died then, of course. He had come close, but thanks to Much's cares and his own stubbornness he had ended up making a full recovery. They had both made it back home, ready to put the nightmare behind and move on with their lives.

It hadn't exactly worked out. Almost immediately after their return, Robin had found himself facing death once again.

He could have died that day in the courtyard -hadn't it been for Marian he  _would_  have died- but he hadn't felt sorry or afraid. He had been proud.

To die in the place of four completely innocent men -men who had been willing to take great risks trying to provide for their families- would have been an honour. As would have been dying a few days later, when he turned himself in to protect his peasants.

Time and time again Robin had put himself in harm's way for those he loved and cared about -his king, his country, his people, his friends. Time and time again he could have died by the hand of his enemies but time and time again they had failed. He had always found a way around it in the end -he had always survived.

Until today.

Today he  _was_  going to die.

Dying for his king would have been fine. Dying for his peasants would have been better. Dying after  _defeating_ those who threatened his king  _and_ his peasants was the best.

All in all, he couldn't have picked a better way to go than this: in Sherwood, surrounded by his outlaws, the smell of the Byzantine fire still lingering in the air and the sound of the explosion that had destroyed Nottingham castle ringing in his ears.

No, he wasn't afraid of dying. Not like this.

Of course, he was the only one at ease with the idea -the only one who had come to terms with the inevitable.

"Nothing's gonna happen," Much said bravely -or at least as bravely as he could manage. Robin could hear the tears in his voice, even if he was trying hard to keep them in check. "There's a cure."

Good old Much, always trying to find the "good bit", the silver lining. He couldn't see that in this case his  _death_  would be the good bit. That it was his time; that he  _wanted_  to die.

That he had actually died many months ago, but had stuck around -like a ghost- to finish what he had started the moment he saved Will and Allan and Luke and Benedict. And he had now. Today he had finally defeated his enemy. Today he had saved Nottingham and he had come one step closer to saving England. Today he had handled his unfinished business so the time had come for him to finally -to finally  _let go_.

"We have cheated death so many times…" he said softly, walking the small distance that separated them.

They were all there. Much and Allan. Little John. Tuck and Kate. His band. His friends. His brothers. Those who had stuck with him through thick and thin. Those who had believed in him enough to join him on his crusade. Those who had pulled him from the brink every time he found himself close to the breaking point.  _Robin Hood_.

His newfound family was also there: the brother he had never known he had and the man a large part of him still wanted to kill. Two men he had never expected to be part of his gang and yet who had proven their loyalty to their cause, to their country, to their king -to  _him_ \- in the end. He was glad they were here -that he would get the chance to say his goodbye to them as well.

"What am I going to be without you?" Much asked him.

Robin smiled slightly. For so long Much had believed himself to need Robin to survive when the truth was that it was really the other way around. He had never corrected him because -well, in all honesty because he had enjoyed being admired by his friend. But there was no point in hiding anymore. He deserved the truth from him.

" _You_  are already more of a man that I will ever be." Much clearly didn't buy it, so he grabbed him by the neck, forcing him to look at him as he said the words he should have actually said many years ago. "You are my best friend."

It was silly, really. Two words - _best friend_ \- that held little meaning. As far as titles went, this one was rather inconsequential. But for both of them it meant so much more. For so long Much had wondered where he stood with Robin -how did the former lord of Locksley see him? Was he still a servant to him? Was he just another member of his gang? Would it make a difference if one day he decided he wanted to leave or would it be like when Will left -sad, but manageable? It was impossible to know with Robin, even for someone who knew him as well as Much. He was always careful not to reveal too much about himself, and while those closest to him had long ago learned to live with it, it had occasionally annoy Much to no end.

But today he knew. He was Robin's best friend. Coming from anyone else, that title would have meant very little; coming from Robin, it meant the world.

And then, just when Much thought it couldn't get any more emotional, Robin did something he had only rarely done: he hugged him -a tight, heartfelt embrace that was meant to make up for all the times when he had appeared distant or cruel or unappreciative of the man who had been constantly by his side. It wasn't the kind of hug Robin usually gave anyone, but today he wanted - _needed_ \- his friend to know, without a shadow of a doubt, how important he really was, how much he had constantly relied on him.

How much he loved him.

When they finally parted there were tears in both men's eyes but no one commented on it.

"This isn't fair," John said suddenly, rather uncharacteristically. He was usually not one to complain or question what life threw his way. But there were limits to his patience and today he found he couldn't sit idly by because -because it  _wasn't_  fair; it wasn't fair that Robin should die when he was so close to having what he had always dreamed of. Vaisey was dead and the king was coming back and he would be pardoned. He would get to live the life he had fought so hard for… Except he wasn't. He was going to die instead.

It wasn't fair.

"Come  _on_ , John," Robin said rather exasperatedly. He had expected Much's reluctance, but not John's. John was supposed to be the sensible one. "Today  _is a good day_ to die."

Hearing his own words thrown back at him very nearly broke the usually unbreakable Little John. Uttering a choked sob, he took a step forward and gathered the man he had come to regard more like a son than anything else in his strong arms.

Robin's eyes found Allan, standing just behind John's back.

"You," he said, stumbling slightly on his way to his friend. "You are a good man. I'm sorry I ever doubted that."

"I'm not," Allan disagreed, his voice soft and tired. "I betrayed you, I lied to you, I-"

"You came back. You saved our lives. You  _are_  a good man, Allan A-Dale. Don't you ever forget that. Understood?"

Nodding once, he too proceeded to embrace his leader and friend for the last time.

The poison was very quick. Robin could feel himself growing weaker and weaker and he knew he didn't have much time left. But he had to hold on for a little while longer. He couldn't leave without saying his goodbyes.

"My work isn't finished yet, Tuck," he continued, addressing now the man who was largely responsible for him being here right now. Without him he would have probably died months ago and Vaisey would still be terrorizing Nottingham. Tuck had found him when he didn't want to be found and had reminded him of who he really was. So he told him -he told him how grateful he was for him and how he hoped he would continue mentoring those he was leaving behind, just like he had mentored him.

A little way still to go…

Robin smiled slightly when he saw the men he was looking for standing just a little bit away from the rest of the gang -alone together. He understood them. They were outsiders, they didn't belong there -or at least they didn't think they did. Well, that would need to change.

Walking towards them proved to be a much greater task than he had expected and he very nearly stumbled over his own feet. Archer caught him and supported most of his weight so that he could remain standing.

"Your place is here now," he said, his voice even more tired than before.

"Without you?"

"These men are some of the best England has to offer, and they are yours now. You need to lead them. Together you must protect Nottinghamshire and when the King returns you need to make sure they all get what is due to them. For me. You will be the new Lord of Locksley; they will be your responsibility. Make sure Much gets his Bonchurch," (there was a loud sob from behind, but Robin was too exhausted to take a look) "and that everyone else gets what they deserve. I'm counting on you, Archer. Will you look after my men for me?"

The young man's eyes were wide with surprise.

"I don't know if I can…"

"You can. Much will look after you, just like he's looked after me all these years. Tuck will keep you in the right track. John, Allan and Kate will follow your lead. And when all of this is over, Gisborne will teach you how to be a good master to your peasants. Won't you, Gisborne?"

Guy, who had remained stoic while his former enemy went around saying his goodbyes, looked at him as if he had suddenly spurred another head. Robin couldn't help but smile at his confusion.

"I'm confident you've picked up a thing or two about being a good master. And that you won't make the same mistakes you once made."

It was clear from his face that Robin actually believed that there was hope for him after all. The way he was looking at him -like he  _trusted_  him; trusted him to do the right thing. Guy didn't know why, but that trust meant more to him than anything else in the world and he suddenly felt the need to do something - _anything_ \- to feel worthy of that trust. This was the last time he was going to see Robin of Locksley and there were so many things he needed to get off his chest.

"Robin, I-" he started to say, but he was stopped by the other man shaking his head.

"I know what you're going to say," he assured him. "I know."

He did know. He was going to talk about her and Robin didn't really want to talk about her. Not yet, when he still hadn't said goodbye to Kate. Not here, when he was surrounded by his friends. Not with Gisborne, of all people! He might have grown to understand him a little bit and he trusted him to do the right thing. But he hadn't forgiven him and he certainly hadn't forgotten what he had done. So no, he didn't want to talk about her with him.

He wanted her for himself.

"Kate," he said at last. The girl wasted no time throwing her arms around his neck and pulling closer to his chest. He held her there for a moment because he knew that she needed that -just like he knew what she needed to hear from him. But he couldn't say it. He couldn't even bring himself to do anything more than wrap his arms around her small frame and hold her like that for a few moments. "Brave Kate," he said instead, because it was the only thing he could say. She was brave, and he did care for her -just not in the way she wanted him to. He sincerely hoped she would grow to understand him in due time.

"I'm sorry that I have to leave you," he told her, praying it was enough. "All of you," he added, casting a final glance around the small clearing where they were all standing. Six men locked eyes with him for the last time. "But I have to do this alone."

Pushing away from her, he started on his brief journey towards the place he had chosen as his final resting spot. He sensed more than saw that Much made to follow him, but he also heard a very low "Don't," coming from John. He was grateful for that -grateful that he at least understood that he needed to be alone for this.

She wouldn't come if he wasn't alone.

The gang watched him leave until he was out of sight.

"What do we do now?" Allan asked -to no one and everyone, needing desperately to be doing  _something_.

"We wait," John replied. The words  _'-until we can be sure he's really dead'_  were implied in his tone. He forced himself to glance at Archer in an effort to fulfill Robin's wish that he be included in the gang, silently asking him whether he agreed with the plan. The young man gave him a tense nod.

And so they waited -which was hard, because they didn't know what to wait for. They all knew the poison was quick, so Robin was most likely dead already. But at the same time they didn't want to take any chances. So they kept waiting. And waiting.

They waited -until the scream pierced the stillness of Sherwood Forest.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am in complete awe with this fandom, truly. Those of you who know me, or that have read anything from me before know how insecure I usually am about my work, so to have this kind of response is mind-blowing. I really thank each and every one of you who’s reviewed, left kudos or even read this first chapter. I hope that the rest of the story lives up to all the hype.  
> I’ve mentioned this in a review, but I’ll say it again just in case: this story isn’t finished yet, so I’ll update once a week for now, since I don’t want to ran out of chapters and put pressure on myself. I only need to write one or two chapters more, I think, so later I’ll be able to update more frequently, but I’m not making any promises for now.  
> Thanks again for all the support. Love you all!

**CHAPTER TWO.**

Walking was a much greater task than it had ever been before. Robin’s body felt heavy and every breath he took brought a fresh wave of pain. But he didn’t care. He was determined.

At long last he arrived at his destination: the tree where he had proposed to Marian the second time and she had agreed to spend the rest of her life with him. The same tree under which they would sit as kids, basking in the sun and in each other’s company, long before they realized they were in love. Of all of Sherwood Forest, that was their spot –always had been. Robin knew that she would be waiting for him there. She  _had_  to be.

He wasn’t wrong.

When he finally managed to emerge into the small clearing –tired, breathless, aching all over–, he saw her.

Marian was kneeling by the foot of their tree, her pale fingers tracing her own name carved in the bark. He had put it there himself almost a year ago, when he had come to bury her ring -the real one, the one he had given her when they had first gotten engaged; she had thrown it at his head when he left, but Much had retrieved it and kept it safe for years. She hadn’t had a funeral in the Holy Land, so he had decided to give her one, in whichever way he could. He knew she would have appreciated his being so thoughtful and wouldn’t have held it against him that he hadn’t thought of telling the rest of the outlaws.

For a long, almost endless moment, Robin could do nothing but stare at the vision before him. Her small, delicate frame was wrapped in a grey cloak that contrasted nicely against her dark curls. Her skin was pale –too pale, so much so that she almost had a certain glow about her.

She looked more beautiful than she had ever looked before.

“Marian,” he finally breathed, his voice hoarse and tired. She turned and suddenly her face –her beautiful, beloved face– was on him. 

“Robin!” She jumped to her feet and leaped towards him.

His hand reached out to her almost on its own accord and he was surprised by how corporeal she felt to his touch. He had imagined she would be more ethereal, but he wasn’t about to complain. After everything they had been through, the least he deserved was for her to  _feel_ real.

“I knew I would find you again,” he whispered.

She arched a perfect eyebrow at him and her smile faltered just a tiny bit.

“You did?” she asked.

“Of course,” Robin replied. He smiled cheekily, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Who else would come to greet me to the afterlife if not my own wife?”

“Afterlife?” Realization dawned the second the word was out of her mouth. “You’re  _dying_?,” she asked breathlessly.

If Robin had been his usual self, he would have noted how utterly terrified Marian had sounded just then. He also would have noticed how tired she looked behind her smile –a smile that was slowly fading away as her mind put together what little facts she had: Robin had been hurt somehow and he was now dying; he had come to this, their spot, to find her and he thought he had. The only problem was that she hadn’t come to collect his soul to take to the afterlife.

“Robin, I’m not dead,” she breathed.

She had half expected him to be too far gone to register her words, but somehow he did and there was a flash of sheer panic across his handsome features.

“W-what?”

“I’m not dead,” she said again, taking his hand and placing it on her chest so that he could feel her heartbeat under his fingers.

For a long moment, that heartbeat was all Robin could feel, the only thing that could keep him from drifting off into oblivion. But the poison was quick, and much as he would love to stick around until he  _at least_ got some answers, he knew his time was almost up.

His legs were suddenly unable to support him anymore and Marian had to catch him before he fell to the ground. She stumbled under his added weight, but by sheer force of will she was able to lay him on his back.

“Everything is going to be fine,” she said in what was meant to be a reassuring tone.

“I know it might not look like it, specially considering the circumstances,” he whispered, his hand grasping hers with all the force he had left. “But I’m really glad that you’re alive.”

“Robin, you need to tell me what happened.”

“I’ve missed you so much, Marian-”

“Robin,  _please_ ,” she begged, her free hand rummaging around his body in search of a clue as to what might have happened to him.

“Poison,” he finally said, pointing at a shallow cut on his neck. 

“Poison,” she repeated, her fingers tracing the small scar. He leaned into her touch and sighed contently. “Okay, that’s good. What poison, do you know?” No response. “Robin?”

She looked at his face and saw in horror that his eyes were closed.

“Robin?” she said again, shaking him slightly. “Robin, open your eyes.”

Cold fear gripped her when he didn’t react. Everything inside her urged her to go looking for help, but at the same time she was physically incapable of moving an inch. He was still alive -she could tell but the very slight rise and fall of his chest-, she would not leave him to die alone.

“ _DJAQ!_ ” she called, as loudly as she could manage. The other woman had scarcely left her alone in months -Marian could only pray she had remained close enough now that she was actually needed. “Come quick, Djaq! Help!”

Seconds dragged and with each passing one she could feel Robin slipping further and further away from her.

“Robin,  _please_. We can’t keep dying in eachother’s arms.  _Djaq!_ ”

Finally, after what felt like years to her, Marian heard light footsteps somewhere nearby.

“Marian?” came Djaq’s tentative voice. She didn’t want to intrude on the two lovers reunion, but she was almost certain that she had heard her name called.

“ _Yes_ , we’re here. Please come quick!”

The urgency in her voice was undeniable this time -Djaq had debated whether she had heard it from the distance-, so the Saracen ran the rest of the distance until she emerged in the clearing. The scene that met her eyes was as confusing as it was unexpected.

“What is it?” she asked, her eyes immediately falling on Robin’s immobile form. “What happened?”

“He’s been poisoned. I don’t know with what or how, but I think it might have been through that cut in his neck.”

“Is he breathing?” she asked, kneeling next to her friend and examining the wound.

“Barely. Djaq…”

“Come on, Robin. I went through a lot of trouble to bring you your wife back. You cannot die on us now,” she whispered. Robin, of course, did not move.

Djaq immediately set to work. She opened the bag she had brought and started taking out an assortment of herbs and potions.

“I need to know what is poisoning him,” she said without looking at Marian. “Much will probably know -or John. You need to fi-”

“I am  _not_ leaving him.”

“We don’t have a choice, Marian. I need to know if I am to have the slightest chance of curing him.”

It was a good point -rationally, Marian knew this. But she wasn’t thinking rationally. Not when the love of her life laid close to death. She was terrified to move and find him gone when she returned, but, at the same time, she dreaded to think what would happen if she didn’t leave.

The decision was made for her a second later when Will appeared in the clearing.

“Are you alright? I thought I heard som-” the words died in his lips when his mind caught up with what he was seeing. “What is wrong with him?”

“Get Much. Or John. Or  _someone_. He’s been poisoned and we need to know with what.” Marian spoke quickly, willing his friend to be on his way already.

Not one to argue, especially when the stakes were this high, Will simply nodded and took off, praying with all his might that his friends were nearby.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you really think I'd revive Guy and Allan and not *Marian*?


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The good news is that I'm done writing this story and I'm overall pleased with what I achived. I'm particularly looking forward to posting chapters 6 and 8 to hear what you all have to say about them. For now, though, enjoy chapter 3. 
> 
> Also, I think I'll stick to posting once a week, unless I get an overwhelming demand to do differently. I'm not doing much editing before I post each chapter (which is something I'll regret later, I'm sure), but I still want to have a few days to ponder over things before I upload them. Anyway, review and let me know what you think. 
> 
> Later!

**CHAPTER THREE.**

 “They said ‘Djaq’, didn’t they?” Much asked for the third time in as many minutes. “We all heard it, someone was calling for Djaq, right?”

Nobody answered him -they just kept on moving towards the general direction the scream had come from.

“Why Djaq?” Much insisted after a few more moments. “Djaq is in Acre. Why would anyone call for Djaq in the middle of Sherwood Forest? W-”

“Will you _please_ shut up?” Kate grunted from behind him.

“You want me to shut up? If you knew who Djaq was, or where she is, you wou-”

“Much!” John said, effectively silencing him. “She’s right, you have got to shut up for a minute.”

They had been walking for a few minutes, and except for Much, they hadn’t said a word. Heartbroken as they were, and confused as they were -because,they had _all_ heard a female voice calling for Djaq-, they hadn’t felt much like talking. Except for the former manservant: he _had_ to keep talking, because if he could just focus all his attention on this latest mystery, then he wouldn’t have to think about Robin.

And he did _not_ want to think about Robin.

He didn’t say anything else, though. He wasn’t getting much else from his friends, anyway.

They kept on walking for another short while -Allan leading the way, Archer and Gisborne lagging behind and the others close together in the middle. They had no idea where they were going, but they knew they were on the right track because the mysterious voice was becoming clearer each time that it called out for their friend. However, the voice had been quiet for a while now, so the outlaws decided to stop and consider their next step.

“Maybe it was a trick of the wind,” Tuck offered without any real conviction.

“No, that voice was human,” Archer admitted. “You said you know who they were calling out for? Someone named Jack?” he added to John.

“Djaq,” the older man corrected. “She’s a friend of us.”

“A friend who is supposed to be back in the Holy Land,” Much added unnecessarily. He was about to ask -again- why someone would be calling for Djaq, but Allan cut him off.

“Hang on!” he said suddenly, and all the outlaws turned to him. “Isn’t this the way to Robin’s oak tree?”

“Robin has his own tree?” Archer asked, while his half brother muttered:

“It all looks the same to me.”

Tuck turned from Allan to John and then to Much. The latter suddenly looked very pale, but the former seemed to be pondering over his friend’s words.

“It might be,” he finally conceded.

“I’m almost positive it is,” Allan decided. “We can’t be too far, in fact. Just a few yards that way-”

He made to move, but Much quickly captured his wrist in his hand and kept him in place.

“Are you insane?” he demanded. “We can’t go there!”

“Why not? If that’s the way the voice was coming from-”

“ _Robin_ is probably there.”

“Yeah, so?”

“ _So?_ ” The manservant didn’t explain why he thought it would be a problem to go to where his master was probably dying, but the heartbreak on his face spoke volumes.

“Much, we have to go. It’s _Djaq_!” Allan reminded him.

He dislodged himself from Much’s grip and turned to move, but he had scarcely taken one step when he crashed against someone who was running towards them and both fell to the floor.

Swords were quickly drawn and warnings immediately shouted until the identity of the newcomer was finally established.

“It’s me, it’s me!” Will said, his hands up.

“Will?” John asked. “Put your swords down!” he commanded.

“What are you doing here?” Much asked in disbelief.

“I was looking for you. I need your help.” He got to his feet and helped Allan do the same. Then he allowed himself half a second to look at his friends but quickly froze when he realized who was among them. “What is _he_ doing here?” he demanded, his voice dripping with hatred.

“It’s a long story,” Allan offered. “You see, Gisborne’s mum and Robin’s dad were having an affair-”

It appeared to be a good story, but the mention of his leader’s name reminded Will that he was in a rush.

“Nevermind. Listen, Robin’s been poisoned.”

Their already dark expressions turned darker. Much, in fact, had to look away to try to prevent the tears from falling.

“We know,” John told him.

“You know? Then why aren’t you _doing_ something?” Will demanded, surprised that his friends would just give up like that. Their leader was dying.

But, as it turned out, that seemed to be the whole point.

“What is there to do?”

“You could start by telling me _how_ he got poisoned -or better yet, with _what_! Djaq might do something with that.”

“And then what?” Allan cut in. “Say she does save him -then what?”

Will was slightly taken aback by Allan sudden fierceness. He really didn’t understand what was happening.

“Look, you weren’t here -you don’t know how bad it was. We came here and we fought and Robin kept his promise to Marian. He didn’t give up. He wasn’t exactly happy, but he did it -because he had promised her he would.” Allan paused, seemingly slightly overwhelmed by emotions. He recovered quickly. “But the deal was that he had to keep it together _until Vaisey was defeated_. He did that. He’s earned his rest.”

“He deserves to be with Marian,” Much added in a small voice. Such admission seemed to tear him apart and Tuck patted him in the shoulder reassuringly.

Will wanted to know how they had defeated Vaisey. He also wanted to ask how Gisborne factored into that equation. But he sensed that both those answers would require a lot of time -time they presently did not have.

“That makes sense,” he admitted slowly -carefully. He wanted his friends to fully understand what he was about to tell them. “Except for the fact that _Marian is not dead_.”

Four pair of eyes turned to him and watched him in horror.

“What did you just say?” Guy demanded, taking a step towards the younger man, who in turn took a step back.

“Not that it’s any of your concern, buy Marian is not dead,” Will repeated, his eyes fixed on his former enemy.

“ _How?_ ” Much all but shrieked. “How is that even possible?!”

“Long story,” he said dismissively. “It doesn’t really matter _how_ , what matters is that she’s alive and _here_ and that _her husband is dying in her arms_!”

Kate gasped at such a revelation, but it went unnoticed by the others.

“He was nicked in the neck with a poisoned blade,” Tuck finally explained, seeing that none of the others seemed the least bit capable of speech right now.

“What was the poison?”

“I’m afraid I do not know. Gisborne might, though. I understand it was his.”

“ _You_ poisoned him?!” Will couldn’t believe it -not so much that Guy would try to kill Robin, but definitely by the outlaws’ apparent disregard for that fact.

“It was his poison but he wasn’t the one doing the poisoning,” Tuck clarified.

“That was his sister,” Allan completed.

Will opened his mouth to say something else because, even if time was of the essence, he _needed_ a few explanations. But Guy beat him to it.

“You walk in here after a year, with this outrageous tale, and you expect us to believe you?” he almost snorted dismissively. “Let the dead rest in peace -that includes Robin.”

“It is _not_ an outrageous tale!”

“Sounds like one to me!”

A storm seemed to be brewing between the two men. Fortunately, John broke in before it could begin.

“Tell him about the poison.”

“What? You can’t possibly-”

“We trust Will.”

“More than we trust you,” Allan added with something of a smile.

Defeated, Guy sighed.

“It’s the same poison Joseph used on Pitt street,” he admitted.

Momentary relief washed over Will, because they had been able to save those on Pitt street. But then he remembered how bad Robin had looked, and that relief disappeared.

“I need to tell Djaq,” he announced unnecessarily, because Much was already moving and so was Kate. It took the rest of them half a second to follow suit.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning here: As you all know if you've ever read anything I've written, I usually like to keep my stories as realistic as I can -in other words, I like to bring characters back from the dead, but I like doing it in a way that readers say "Okay, yes, I can see that happening." In this story, though, I might be pushing the limits of realism just slightly. (There's no magic involved or anything like that, but I'm not sure if doctors would approve of my methods for curing poison). I hope it is not a problem and I *promise* it makes sense for the story.
> 
> As usual, I thank each and every one of you who's taken the time to read and review this. There was some drama this week on the emails, so I wanted to apologize again if I've offended anyone. I *think* I'm up to date with replaying to reviews, but if I'm missing anyone, don't hesitate to write me a PM or an email to call me out on it. If worse comes to worste, Amaranthe has my celphone -send me a WhatsApp and I'll reply. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

**CHAPTER FOUR.**

Will couldn’t have been gone more than five minutes, but Marian had felt each passing second like it was a tiny blade, poking her over and over again all over her body. She could actually feel Robin’s pulse getting weaker and she could see his breathing becoming more and more laboured and all she could do was pray that Will would hurry up already.

Djaq had decided that, since they didn’t know _what_ was poisoning him, all they could do was try and take it -whatever _it_ might be- out of him. So now they sat, in an ever increasing pool of Robin’s blood as the hot liquid poured from his slain wrists.

“Don’t you think it’s enough?” Marian asked worriedly, noticing how pale her husband was becoming.

“He can take a little more,” Djaq replied, more to herself than to Marian. “The more poison we can get out, the better his chances.”

“What if you can’t stop the bleeding? What if it’s too much?”

Djaq didn’t answer. Finally, after an excruciatingly long moment, she finally decided that she couldn’t risk it any more.

“Help me bandage him up,” she instructed.

Each woman took one of Robin’s arms and wrapped tight bandages around his wrists. The hemorrhage was quick to stop and Marian sighed in relief.

“That should have gotten rid of most of the poison,” Djaq muttered. “If we’re lucky, that should be enough, but it looks bad-”

Just then there was a commotion and the outlaws plowed into the clearing.

Neither woman looked up, but they each sighed in relief.

“What’s the poison?” Djaq demanded. There was no reply.

The outlaws had trouble concentrating as their eyes kept going from Djaq, to Marian, to Robin’s prone form, to the pool of blood underneath him and then back to Marian.

“Bloody hell,” Much whispered, voicing everyone’s thoughts. “I cannot believe it’s true…”

“Much!” Marian demanded, unconcerned to put his mind at ease. They needed to focus on Robin. Plenty of time to talk in the future.“The poison?”

“Joseph’s,” Will offered. “The one that was used on Pitt street.”

Djaq turned quickly and started looking through her bag until she found a small vial. But then she paused.

“What’s the problem?” Marian asked, noticing her sudden reluctance. “Djaq-”

“This is Belladonna,” the Saracen explained. “When the right amount is ingested, we know it’s effective as an antidote.”

“Yes, so? What are you waiting for?”

“The people on Pitt street had taken the poison orally, that’s why it worked. In Robin’s case, it entered directly into his bloodstream.”

Marian understood at once what that meant.

“You’re not sure it will work,” she whispered. Djaq nodded. “Okay, then. If the poison entered directly into his bloodstream, then maybe the antidote has to enter his body the same way-”

“I don’t know if that will work either. The Belladonna is an incredibly powerful poison, and Robin is very weak -he might not be able to fight it. We could wait and hope that we have gotten the worst of it of his system, but he should be getting better if that were the case, and I don’t think he is.”

“What do you suggest, then?”

“You’re his wife -it should be your decision. I don’t think there’s a right answer here.”

Everybody else waited on bated breath for Marian to make her decision, but she paid them no mind. All she cared about was Robin -all she could think about was him.

Doing nothing and hoping for the best was out of the question. Marian absolutely refused to give him up without a fight.

She could tell Djaq to feed him the Belladonna. It had proven effective once, it might prove effective again. But even with Marian’s limited knowledge of the inner workings of a human body she sensed it might do little good. Robin might end up having to fight two poisons instead of one.

“Put it in his bloodstream,” she instructed.

Djaq didn’t ask her if she was sure, which was a blessing, because Marian certainly wasn’t. Instead she grabbed her dagger and dipped it in the vial. Then she proceeded to make a few cuts in his neck and his wrists.

If any of them was hoping for a miraculous recovery, they were sorely disappointed. There was no change.

“It might take a while,” Djaq explained, seemingly trying to convince herself as much as she was trying to convince everyone else. “We should get him back to the camp.”

Without saying another word, John and Tuck set out to build a stretcher with which to transport their friend. After a quick glance a Djaq, Will went with them.

“There’s nothing more you can do for him,” the Saracen reminded her friend, taking one of her hands in hers and squeezing it gently.

Marian sighed.

“I know,” she admitted. She cast a final glance at Robin’s peaceful face as she rose to her feet and turned to meet her friends for the first time.

It was like being punched in the gut. The air was knocked out of her and her skin turned stone cold as soon as her eyes landed on the small group of men standing a few feet away. She took a step back and her hand flew instinctively to her sword.

“What is _he_ doing here?” she breathed.

Much and Allan moved at once, the former towards her and the latter towards Gisborne.

“It’s not what you think,” Robin’s manservant tried to reassure her, his hands on her shoulders, which were shaking, both with fury and fear. “Trust me, everything’s fine.”

“Out,” Allan commanded at the same time.

“What?” Guy snarled, his eyes leaving Marian for the first time since he had entered the clearing.

“You heard me, get out! Go to the camp and we’ll meet you there.”

“I will not-”

“ _Get out!_ ” Allan said again, with such a force that it was impossible to ignore him. “Kate, Archer, go with him.”

Three mouths opened at once to voice their complaints, but the reappearance of John and Tuck stopped them.

“We will be at the camp,” Guy finally announced. It was a promise, not a threat, but it made Marian’s skin crawl nonetheless.

As soon as they were out of sight she turned to Robin’s oldest and dearest friend, her blue eyes blazing.

“Much, _what the hell?!_ ”

The manservant couldn’t help but cower under such stare.

“There is a really good excuse for his being here, I promise.”

“Yeah, you said something about his mother and Robin’s father?” Will asked from his position next to his friend.

Much winced.

“Yes, Gisborne’s mum and Robin’s dad were having an affair-” Allan began.

“Not here,” John said. “We should get Robin back to the camp before it gets dark.”

Will, Tuck, John and Much each grabbed a side of the stretcher. Djaq took a final look at her patient to make sure that he was secured and that he was still breathing and nodded her head.

Allan walked towards Marian -the woman who had become a really close friend during his months in the Castle, the woman who he had missed deeply- and wrapped one arm around her shoulders.

“For what it’s worth,” he said in that light tone he usually used. “Robin absolutely _loathes_ having him around.”

Worried, angry and confused as she was, Marian couldn’t help but smile at that.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter is a day late, but it's significantly longer than the previous ones, so that has got to count for something, right? 
> 
> I'm compelled to tell you all that we are approaching uncharted territory here -at least for me-, meaning that we are going to start paying more attention to Guy for a while (though the next chapter is worse in that respect than this one), which is something completely new for me. All I ask of you is that you bear with me for a while. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy it. I'll be waiting to know what you think.

**CHAPTER FIVE.**

Gisborne was pacing the clearing when they arrived, but nobody paid him much attention. The four men walked directly into the camp and deposited their precious cargo on his cot. Djaq wasn’t far behind and she immediately set out to carry a thorough examination. 

“He’s still breathing,” she announced to her audience, who were watching her every move anxiously. “And his pulse is slightly stronger, I think.”  The atmosphere around them lifted slightly. “But it’s still too soon to tell. He is fighting more than the poison. He looks exhausted -and thinner,” she added and there was just a little bit of resentment in her tone. 

Her dark eyes found Much instinctively. 

“He hasn’t been eating regularly.” It wasn’t a question. 

She wasn’t wrong, but Much resented to accusation nonetheless. 

“He has had a lot of things on his mind. Eating hasn’t really been a priority.” He muttered angrily.

“Speaking of which-” Allan jumped in before Djaq could reply. He cast a pointed look at Marian who was sitting on Robin’s cot. “Is there anything you might want to tell us? Something interesting happened in the Holy Land after we left?”

“Marian is alive,” Will said dismissively. “That’s all you need to know for now.”

“I disagree,” John said. 

Several mouths opened at the same time, all to express their own ideas, but Tuck beat them all. 

“Not here,” he commanded. “We should go outside.”

Marian turned to him and was ready to disagree and announce she was not leaving her husband’s side, but when she met the other man’s determined gaze she was forced to admit defeat. Besides, she had to admit, the camp did feel a little bit crowded with ten people lumped together around Robin’s cot.

A few minutes were spent lighting a fire, passing some food around, pouring ale and doing all the necessary things to get ready for a long night. Finally they were ready. 

“So-” Allan began, again in his light tone. “You’re alive.” He said to Marian. 

They were sitting in a sloppy circle in the clearing to which their camp opened. Marian was flanked by Djaq and Will on one side and Much -who seemed to be determined not to let her out of his sight, let alone his grasp- on the other. Allan was directly in front of them, his eyes frequently travelling from one of them to the other, his mind still trying to process the fact that not one but  _ three _ of his closest friends were safely back. John sat on a fallen log, listening to everything but saying nothing. 

Out of the four newest members, only Kate appeared uninterested in the latest going ons. She sat closest to the mouth the camp, listening with half an ear for anything regarding Robin’s supposed wife, but far more preoccupied by what was happening inside her so-called home. Tuck stood close to where John sat, his dark eyes examining the new people with scientific detachment. 

The other two men sat together a little bit away from the rest. Archer was full of questions, but knew it was not his place to ask them -not yet, anyway. Guy had most of the same questions, but instead of bearing them with a calm heart and a cool head like his half brother was doing, all he wanted to do was go to Marian and shake her, demanding that she told him how she had managed to survive his blade. He was grateful when Allan asked the question before he could move, knowing such an action would not help his cause in the slightest. 

“No,” Marian said at once, glaring at her friend. “I’m not saying  _ anything _ until I hear why my would-be killer appears to be in such friendly terms with all of you.” Her voice was cold and harsh, with a hint of hurt too. She had been almost certain that she would arrive to find that Robin had killed Gisborne, but instead, he had befriended him.

She wanted to know  _ why _ . 

“It wasn’t Robin’s choice,” Much explained, automatically jumping in his master’s defense. “Had it been for him, he would have killed Gisborne.”

“Why didn’t he?” she muttered, more annoyed that he hadn’t than she was curious. Guy couldn’t help but flinch at her icy tone.

“What would you have done if it had been the other way around?” John pointed out, one eyebrow raised and a knowing smile behind his beard. “Would you have killed him, if you thought he had killed Robin?”

“Yes!” She replied automatically. However, as she noticed the pointed look on the older man's face, she was forced to rethink her answer.

Yes, if she thought that Guy had killed  _ Robin _ , then she would most certainly kill Guy. She had forgiven him for  _ a lot  _ of things -treason among them, and also burning her house down-, but she wouldn't forgive him for  _ that _ . Robin was her limit.

Then again… How was Robin supposed to know that? Guy had done some admittedly terrible things,  _ including _ trying to kill Robin, and she had always found a way to forgive him. Was it possible that Robin had spared his life thinking that that was what she would have wanted of him? He would have been wrong if he had thought that, but Marian wasn't really in a position to complain for his logic.

“There’s a difference between ‘not killing’ someone and welcoming them into their camp like a brother,” she reminded them, ignoring the pang she suddenly felt. She had never doubted that her husband would be suffering believing her dead, but she was starting to realize that it was probably worse than she had dared imagine. 

“He didn’t at first, but then he sort of didn’t have a choice,” Allan said, glad to finally being able to recount the story he had tried to tell three times now. “You see, Gisborne’s mum and Robin’s dad were having an affair many years ago. Gisborne didn’t know and Robin certainly didn’t know. And they also didn’t know that from that affair, a child was born.” He gestured towards where Gisborne and Archer sat. “Archer.”

Marian had been studiously avoiding glancing at that particular spot, but at Allan’s words her head snapped in that direction. 

“You’re Robin’s  _ brother _ ?” she asked in disbelief. 

“Half,” Archer admitted. “And half Guy’s. They had to team up to get me out of some trouble in York,” he explained, not meeting Marian’s eye. In fact, he didn’t meet anyone’s eyes. He suddenly felt very self-conscious, what with three pair of eyes looking intently at him. 

“How?” Djaq asked. And then, turning back to Allan before he could start explaining to here where babies came from, she added: “How did you find out?”

“Oh,  _ that _ ,” he continued. “That’s an interesting story. You see, you’re not the first one of Robin’s dead relatives that has suddenly waltz back into his life. Turns out his father isn’t dead -or at least wasn’t dead a few weeks ago, I have no idea what happened to him later- Anyway, his father found out that his son -that is, Archer, not Robin- Archer was in trouble so he tracked Robin and Guy down and urged them to work together to save their brother.”

“It wasn’t Robin’s choice,” Much added hastily. “If it had been anyone but his father who had suggested that he worked with Gisborne he never would have done it. He’s had to live with himself day in and day out, thinking of what you might think of him if you knew that he had betrayed your memory-”

Marian hadn’t been around when Sir Malcolm supposedly died. Her father had moved them to Nottingham about a year later, so she had never met the former Lord of Locksley. But she had heard quite a lot of him from Robin, who had always talked about his father with something almost like devotion. She had no trouble believing that Robin would do anything his father asked of him -regardless of how much he might disapprove himself. 

“But they saved their brother, obviously,” Marian pointed out, reluctant to let go of her anger just yet. “Wasn’t their alliance temporary?”

“Well, yes,” Much admitted uncomfortably. “But it wasn’t quite so simple.”

Much reluctantly told her the whole story: how Gisborne had supposedly killed Vaisey (“ _ I just realized that  _ two _ people you thought you had killed turned up alive on the same day! _ ” Allan commented cheerfully looking at Guy), how Isabella had conned her way into the castle and became Sheriff in Vaisey’s stead, Prince John’s visit, Archer’s betrayal, Vaisey’s return and then,  _ finally _ , his defeat. 

“So Vaisey is dead?” Will repeated for clarification. “For real?”

“He is,” John agreed. 

“Impressive, right?” Allan added, clearly pleased with what he and his friends had accomplished. “It won’t solve anything in the long run, but maybe we can hold Nottingham until the King’s return. He’s coming back, is he not? That’s why you’re here-”

Marian winced, knowing that it was time for them to share their side of the story. The outlaws had done their part, and while she couldn’t say she fully understood what had happened in her absence or that she wouldn’t want to have a word with Robin as soon as he woke up, at least she could see how it was that Gisborne had come to be there.

“Never mind that,” Much waved a hand dismissively. He didn’t care about the King for now. “You’re alive,” he said to Marian.

“How observant of you,” Allan muttered, earning himself a glare from Much. 

“ _ How _ is it that you’re alive?” he asked and then, looking at Djaq: “Why didn’t you tell us she was  _ alive _ ?”

“That isn’t Djaq’s fault,” Marian explained quickly. “They didn’t know.”

“What happened, Marian?” John pressed. 

All eyes were on her -Marian could feel each one of them, even Kate had inched ever-so-slightly forward, eager to learn a little about Robin’s mysterious wife. Djaq squeezed her hand reassuringly. 

“Gisborne’s blade didn’t kill me,” she began, “but I did lose a lot of blood, so I fell unconscious. My pulse was very weak, both because of the blood lose and the fact that I was exhausted and severely dehydrated, so it’s no wonder you thought me dead. In fact, it wasn’t until several hours later that it was discovered that I was alive -when I made a small sound as I was about to be buried.”

“Yes, but  _ how _ ? How was it possible for you to make a sound? You looked pretty done for, Marian,” Allan pointed out.

The woman shrugged, because she honestly had no idea how she had managed to stay alive for that long, let alone how she had made a sound to alert those around her that she was still drawing breath when they had thought her long gone. She hadn’t much cared at that time, and neither did she really care now. She had survived, that was the only thing that mattered.

“I can’t really know for sure,” Djaq jumped in, having herself spent quite a lot of time mulling over the events of that day. “But looking back, I’m pretty sure that the wound wasn’t as deep as I had originally believed it to be -like she said, she wasn’t in the best health. As far as I can tell, she fainted from the shock and it was sheer luck that she started to come back to her senses when she did.”

“Hours,” Much repeated hoarsely. He, like Marian, didn’t really care about the  _ how _ -he was more interested in the  _ why _ . “We were at Bassan’s for a  _ week _ . Robin couldn’t bring himself to leave knowing that you would have to stay.”

Robin had spent the first few hours after Marian’s death in a daze. He had carried her limp body to where she was to be laid to rest and then followed the King back to the camp when he decided that it was getting late and they couldn’t wander around the desert at night. He hadn’t protested, hadn’t argued, hadn’t done anything. When Djaq had suggested that maybe they would be more comfortable at Bassan’s, he had simply followed her lead without saying a word. 

It hadn’t been until they arrived that it had dawn on him that his wife was well and truly dead and that he was never going to see her again. He would return to England, and Marian would forever stay in the desert, away from her family and her lands. And away from her husband. 

He had spent the next week doing little more than drinking himself into a stupor. Much had stayed by his side most of the time, and the rest of the outlaws had taken turns, but their leader had not cared about anything they had to tell him. Eventually, though, John had been able to break through to him. 

_ “She died for England,” _ he had reminded him late one night.  _ “If Vaisey and Gisborne win, she would have died for nothing.” _

He had reluctantly agreed to return, then, because he knew he owed it to her to carry on fighting for what she had believed in. 

“I know,” Marian sighed, knowing that her next words would be hard to hear. “But here’s the thing… As soon as it was discovered that I was alive, the King was called for. He came, along with his personal physician, who took one look at me and determined that I was highly unlikely to survive.

“He still treated my wound and they took me back to the camp, mostly out of respect for Robin, not because either of them had any real hope that I would get better. They just figured that they owed it to him to make sure that I got the best care -and that I didn’t die alone.”

“Why didn’t they send for him?” John pressed. “Robin would have dropped everything to be there with you, the King-”

Marian cut him off. 

“Yes, and that’s exactly why the King didn’t tell him.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was dead,” she explained. “Or as well as. The physician thought so -Djaq had thought so before. Even Robin! He had already said goodbye to me once -can you imagine what it would have been like for him getting me back only to lose me again?”

That had been the King’s logic: why tell Robin that his wife was not dead when she was still quite likely to perish before news even got to him? No, better he didn’t know, he had reasoned. 

But Marian had not died. Against all odds, against all logic, she had slowly but surely gotten better, and soon she had been back in the land of the living.

But not soon enough.

“The King sent for Robin the minute he was sure that I was out of danger.”

“We went to her immediately, Djaq and I, but by then you were already gone,” Will added. 

“You could have written,” Much started to say even though in his heart he knew that they couldn’t have. If they had been on their way already -the news would have reached them several months later, by which point Marian would have probably been on her way. Robin would have refused to see sense, and he would have insisted they made their way back to the Holy Land at once, so he would have probably ended up missing them entirely. 

No, it was obvious enough that they had done the right thing. But still, after months of watching his friend wasting away, of seeing him struggling day in and day out to carry on the simplest of tasks, it was hard for Much not to feel resentful. 

“I  _ wanted _ him to know,” Marian assured him, grasping his hand in hers. “Trust me, Much, the moment I came to my senses, I urged the King to write to Robin, to send someone, to bring him to me. I know what it must have been like for him -surely, you must know that. When he left the first time-” Much squeezed her hand, showing her that he did know. They hadn’t really discussed what those five years had been like for her, but they really didn’t need to. After Robin and her father, Much had always been the one who knew her best, so of course he knew what it had been like for her to live her life completely certain that the man that she loved, the man she had been supposed to be wed to, was gone forever. 

She could easily imagine what Robin had gone through.

“He is going to hate me,” she finished, with such a defeated tone that it was impossible not to feel sorry for her.

“He’s not,” Much assured her. “He’s going to be mad as hell,” he added, with a glare towards Djaq, still a little hurt that they had had to live a whole  _ year _ in the dark, “-but he’ll get over that too soon enough.”

“Hey, I saved his life!” the Saracen said defensively. “He can’t be too angry at me after that!”

“Can you imagine if he had died and he realized that Marian was still alive? He would have come back and hunt you down,” Allan commented lightly, to which Marian had to roll her eyes, though her chest did feel constricted at the thought of how close she had been to losing him again. 

Sensing that the conversation was about to veer into a different path, Tuck decided to intervene. 

“What happened to the King?” he asked, glad for Robin’s sake that his wife was alive, but far more preoccupied by the greater good of England.

“Oh, that. Well, as I was healing -first on my own, then with Will and Djaq’s assistance-, the King was doing what he had promised Robin he would do: talking peace. He managed it around the same time as I was declared fit enough to make the trip back.”

“So he  _ is _ back, then?” Allan interrupted. “He’s in England? Is he in London?”

“Not quite,” Will answered slowly. “He  _ was  _ coming back. After all was settled with Saladin, he wanted nothing more than to settle things here. But we had to take the long way back -the King can hardly go prancing around Europe after he’s been away for so long-, so we ran into some trouble on our way.”

“What kind of trouble?” Tuck pressed. 

“He was captured by Duke Leopold’s men. He’s being held for ransom just outside Vienna. We only managed to escape because we were travelling separately,” the young man explained. “We stayed long enough to see where they were taking him and then we came to get you. God knows Prince John is not going to be of any help and it might be some time before the news gets out that he’s in trouble anyway. We figured that maybe Robin Hood was Richard’s best chance.”

They had imagined that Robin would have been delighted at this new adventure, especially if it had been Marian who had asked him. That had changed, though, when they arrived and found Robin in his current state. It was obvious to everyone that Robin Hood would not be attempting any sort of rescue any time soon.

Well,  _ almost  _ everyone.

“We have to go!” Tuck exclaimed excitedly. “We have to help our King!”

Eight pair of eyes turned to look at him -all but Kate, who continued to ignore what was happening with her friends. 

“Really?” Allan commented. “In case you’ve forgotten, Robin Hood is a little bit incapacitated at the moment.”

“ _ We _ are Robin Hood,” Tuck reminded him. “ _ We _ should go to the King.”

“What, and leave Robin?” Much sounded scandalized. 

“Robin would agree that the King’s safety is a priority, above all else.”

“Not all else,” John pointed out with a glance towards Marian. “It is important, but not enough for us to leave him in his time of need.”

“John-” the dark man began, but he was soon silenced by a look from the larger man.

“You can certainly go if you feel you must. And anyone here might go with you if they feel they should, but  _ Robin Hood’s  _ place is here. So I’m staying.”

“And me,” Much added unnecessarily, because no-one really expected him to leave his master. 

“Leopold is not going to kill him right away, he can wait a few weeks. I’m staying.” Allan agreed. 

Tuck’s gaze went around the camp, looking for allies. There were none.

Kate ignored him, not that he cared much for Kate. She would be of little help in his mission.

Guy looked torn, but he made no motion to move. He would have no problem going to help the King -anything to clear his name-, but he had far more pressing matters to deal with here at the camp. 

Similarly, Archer felt that not all his questions had been answered, so he was determined to stay until they were. Besides, he was genuinely worried for his brother. 

Defeated -because he wasn’t about to embark on a rescue mission all alone-, Tuck sat himself next to John, arms crossed across his chest. 

A comfortable silence fell across the camp. There were still a few matters to settle, and Robin’s illness still hunged heavily between them, but for a moment the outlaws felt like they could relax -the first time they could do so in what felt like a whole lifetime. 

“I should check on Robin,” Djaq announced after a while. Marian was about ready to follow her when she felt a shadow over her. She looked up and her breath caught in her throat -no matter what anyone said, she would never be comfortable around Gisborne after what he had done.

“What do you want?” she hissed, her voice cold and harsh, so much so that Guy couldn’t help but flinch.

“To talk,” he answered simply, not meeting her eye.

The woman snorted. 

“What could you possibly have to say that I might want to hear?”

Making more of an effort than he thought it would require, Guy lifted his head and met her eyes -his own shining with determination.

“I’m sorry,” he said simply. “I need you to understand how sorry I am -for  _ everything _ .”

Angry as she was, Marian couldn’t ignore the sincerity that was pouring out of him in waves. She had no doubt that he did mean it and, for that alone, she had to hear him out. She had cared about him, once upon a time.

She cast a final glance towards the camp, where Djaq and Much were fussing over Robin. The rest of the outlaws were all busy talking about themselves, though she could feel Allan and John’s eyes on her from time to time.

Without saying a word she got to her feet and indicated that he should follow. She walked them a little bit away, to the edge of the clearing: far enough from the gathered outlaws to have a little privacy, but still within sight, should Gisborne try anything funny with her. She took a deep breath and finally turned to face her would-be killer. 

“Okay,” she said. “You wanted to talk. Talk.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you all (should) know by now, I'm a fan of Robin and nothing is ever going to change that. Period. But I did warn you that I was going to try to be a little more kind to Guy here, so it's finally time you see what I meant. *I'm* happy with the result, but I'm worried that fans of Guy won't think I've done enough for him and fans of Robin will think I've done too much... Oh well... I can't please everyone. 
> 
> I'm also slightly worried about what people might think of Marian, because I strongly believe that she is not blameless in this whole debacle, so she's not going to be blameless here either. I'm sorry if you don't agree, but just like I've always say I'm not going to sacifice Robin to save Guy's character, neither will I sacrify Guy to save Marian. 
> 
> Hopefully you'll like what I've written, and even if you don't you'll keep reading. I really, *really* like chapter 7 and I promise it's going to be more to your liking too. 
> 
> Please review -if ever there was a chapter I wanted people to comment on, it's this one. Thanks!

**CHAPTER SIX.**

To be perfectly honest, Guy of Gisborne hadn’t been paying much attention to the conversation around him -he had heard how Marian survived, a little about the King being taken hostage somewhere in Europe and then not much more. He had been too busy, his mind reeling, his heart racing, all because of the woman that sat in front of him -alive and well despite what he had thought.

Never in a million years would he have imagined that he would ever lay eyes on her while he lived, but he had prayed for a chance to see her once again in the after life -one moment before he was irremediably sent to the darkest pit of Hell; one moment to _try_ to make amends. He had rehearsed the words that he would say to her, knowing that he would only get one chance.  He had thought himself ready.

He had been wrong.

Standing before the woman he had loved for all the wrong reasons, he realized how utterly unprepared he was to have a confrontation.

“You wanted to talk. Talk,” she demanded, bright blue eyes shining without the tiniest hint of encouragement. It was hard to believe that only a little over a year ago she had cared about him enough to be willing to spend her life with him, even if it had meant that she would have to give the true love of her life up. She had trusted that he loved her enough to do the right thing by her then -she had trusted he would look after her, take care of her, that she would be safe with him

There were no traces of that trust now.

“I'm sorry,” was all that he could say. The words were completely inadequate to convey what he truly felt, but his mind was working too fast for his mouth to catch up.

“You said that already. You're going to have to do better if you expect me to even _look_ at you ever again. You tried to _kill_ me, Guy.” Her voice cracked at the last word and her mask fell for just a second, enough for him to see what was brewing under the surface.

She wasn’t just angry -she was _hurt_. She had trusted him, she had defended him, she had protected him from Robin when he was so angry that he could have killed him. She had been one of the few people who had seen the good in him and believed him capable of acting accordingly. And in return, he had betrayed her, like he had betrayed his sister; he had killed her.

Guy felt like he was going to be sick.

Fighting the urge to throw up, Guy stood up straighter and fixed his gaze on Marian. She might not want to look at him, but he sure as hell was going to look at her when he said his piece.

“I did,” he admitted. “I did kill you -or at least I thought I did- and for that, not a day has gone by when I haven't blamed myself. Words cannot begin to describe how sorry I am for the pain I put you through, Marian.

“I never took the time to actually get to know you. I had an idea of you in my mind and I was sure that that was your true self. When reality proved me wrong -when you finally revealed yourself to me- I reacted in the worst possible way.”

He paused, suddenly torn. On the one hand, he wanted to earn her forgiveness -his whole being ached with the need of hearing her say that she understood him, that she still believed in him -believed there was hope for him yet.

But he had had a lot of time to think about it, and he had come to the conclusion that he had had reasons to act as he did. Much as he wanted to atone for his sins, it wasn't in his nature to take things lying down.

So, even if a part of him wanted to kick himself for not keeping quiet, he continued.

“I felt betrayed, and I handled it badly, like a selfish little child, and for that, I feel ashamed and I will live the rest of my days trying to earn your forgiveness. But make no mistake, Marian: you took advantage of my blindness and used me for your purposes.

“That being said, that's no excuse for what I did to you -not just in the Holy Land, but everything that came before that too. I thought that I was in love with you, and because of that I thought that I had a right to behave a certain way. I see that now that I was wrong, and I sincerely hope that in time you will find within your heart the power to forgive me -at least in part.”

Not a vindictive person by nature, and with the echo of her true affection for him still cursing through her veins, Marian found herself unable to keep her eyes away from him. Besides, something he had said had struck a chord within her.

She didn't reply for the longest time -seconds, minutes, hours, it was all the same to them. They could neither see nor hear the rest of the outlaws going about their businesses close by, nor did they really care about them. They stood perfectly still, eyes locked with one another’s.

“You are right,” she finally admitted, so low that he had to strive to catch her words. She continued after a pause, a little more loudly. “I did use you for my own purposes, and for that I apologize. It wasn't fair to you -I’ve known that for quite some time, but I have never been able to bring myself to admit it.”

The idea had occurred to her from time to time, but she had always pushed it down, refusing to dwell on it. But now she did.

When Robin had first left, he had taken her heart with him -he hadn’t known it, but she had. She had known that she would never love anyone the way she had loved Robin, so she hadn’t even bothered trying. Suitors had come and gone, but Marian had not spared them more than a glance. And then Guy had come along.

She had hated him at first -actually, viscerally hated him. To see him in Locksley, moving as if he owned the place, acting as if its true master would never return… It had made her feel sick. But she had been drawn to him too -drawn to Locksley, at least. Maybe it had been Robin’s ghost, or maybe some innate need to protect those who should have been her people. Whatever the reason, she had often found herself in Locksley and in his company, and she had started to see a different side to him.

She had never loved him -of that she was sure. Not in the way she had loved - _still_ loved- Robin. But she had cared for him, for a while, and she had considered giving herself to him. She would need a husband eventually, she had told herself at the time. She could do a lot worse than Guy of Gisborne.

And then Robin had returned.

The thing about her relationship with Robin was that they scarcely talked about the important stuff. They knew each other better than they knew themselves, so they had never felt the need to share every little thought that crossed their minds -the other was more than likely to know it already. But after their first engagement was over, something was broken between them, and they never took the time to repair it -at least, not until she had lay close to death on a cold, damp cave many month later. In the meantime, Guy had become a sort of shield behind which Marian had hidden to avoid thinking about the man she couldn't help but love.

So yeah, she had used him -used him for information, used him to make Robin jealous… Used him for her own purposes. She had seen his true attachment to her -because she _had_ seen the good in him and still did, now, as he bared his soul to her. She had seen it and used it to her advantage and for that alone he deserved her apology if not her forgiveness.

“I truly never meant for you to be hurt,” she said sincerely. Her eyes, which only a moment ago had been cold and unforgiving, now shone with true remorse.

He gave her a small smile.

“We were both using each other for the wrong reasons,” he declared.

“Yeah, that is probably true. For what it's worth, I did care about you at a point.” And she _had_ . Even after Robin had returned, even after they had made up and everything had been settled between them once again, Marian had cared about Guy enough to see the good in him -she had been the _only one_ who had seen it.

“I know. And who knows, if Robin hadn't come back when he did, we might still have worked out.”

“It was your fault that he returned when he did,” she reminded him, smiling despite herself. The whole thing was by no means a laughing matter, but the irony was impossible to ignore either.

Guy smiled too, and this time some of it reached his eyes.

“I've noticed,” he admitted. “In any case, it was probably for the best. You and I wouldn't have worked in the long run. You deserve to be with a man who loves you for who you really are, not for who he thinks you could be.”

It was a slight shock to hear Guy talking so maturely about their failed relationship.

“What happened to you, Guy?” She asked. This time, there was actual curiosity in her voice. “Is this change of heart because of your brother?”

“God, no! It's been a long way coming,” he paused, deep in thought for a moment. “I think it started the moment my sword pierced your skin -or, more likely, the second I saw Robin after my sword pierced your skin. I had been so sure, up until that point, that he never could have loved you the way that I did, but then I saw him, and I knew how wrong I had been.”

Guy could still recall with painful clarity the look of utter horror that had befallen on his enemy the minute he had stepped into that wrenched square and saw what was going on.

He hadn't realized what he had done at first. All he remember was that Marian had been taunting him, confessing her love for his enemy, for the man who was so bend on destroying him- And suddenly she had been in his arms, her eyes wide and surprised, her lips slightly parted but with no sound coming out of them.

The scream had been loud enough to break through the haze he had found himself surrounded of. He had taken a step back and looked to where the scream had come from. His eyes had landed on Robin immediately, but it had been clear that the other man had not seen him.

For the first time since they were kids, Guy had seen Robin in a whole new light. Gone was the cheeky grin that was usually plastered on his features, gone was the arrogance with which he moved. Gone, everything was gone, everything but a new sentiment that Guy had never seen there -not in battle, not on the day they had both become orphans: horror, complete and utter terror, the likes of which Guy had not expected.

That look had haunted him ever since.

“I've known pain, Marian,” he continued. “But I think it's safe to say that I never knew such a pain as Robin did then -at least, not at that point,” he added, his mind going back to Meg.

Tired as she was, and reasonably confident that Guy would not hurt her, Marian dropped to the floor and sat with her legs crossed under her.

“Why didn't he kill you?” She asked, though not unkindly. “According to Allan, Sir Malcolm's reappearance was rather recent. I'm certain that Robin must have had a few chances to kill you before that.”

The man sat in front of her and chuckled humorlessly.

“He did,” he admitted. “He was quite determined to kill me for a while, too. But then he saw how truly devastated I was by the whole ordeal and decided to spare me.”

“But _why_?”

“I was in Hell. Dying at that point would have been a relief, and Robin wasn't inclined to put me out of my misery. That isn't to say that he wasn't tempted, from time to time. He was genuinely disappointed when his father came back and he realized that he had missed his chance. I can see it in his eyes every morning when he looks at me.”

The corner of Marian's mouth twitched slightly.

“I can see that happening,” she commented. A pause, and then she added: “For a moment I thought-” she trailed off, deciding that there was no point in sharing her hypothesis with Guy after all.

“Go on, then,” he said encouragingly.

“I thought he hadn’t killed you because he thought I wouldn’t have wanted him to,” she admitted.

To her surprise, Gisborne snorted.

“You wouldn’t have hesitated for a second if you thought I had killed him -I would have had a dagger through my heart before I had even stepped away from his body,” he said confidently, making her smile a little.

“So you do know me a little,” she commented.

“No, I don’t agree with what John said back there. I think that Robin was intent on having me feel as much pain as it was humanly possible, so he decided to let me live. He was right, you know? At that point I would have welcomed Death as an old friend. But, like I said, he has struggled with that choice everyday, because suffering or not, the fact remains that I continue to draw breath and you _don’t_.”

“Except that I do,” she pointed out.

“You do,” he agreed, and his relief was undeniable.

A sense of calmness took over Guy at that moment. He had said his piece -he had cleared his conscience and, though Marian hadn't said that she had forgiven him, at the very least she had heard what he had had to say.

She felt the same way too. By no means had she forgotten the hell that the man that sat before her had put her through and it would be a long time before she could ever trust him again -if ever. But at the very least she knew that his actions on the desert had taken a toll on him too, and that small part of her that had always insisted that there was a caring human being somewhere deep within Guy of Gisborne felt vindicated that said part had finally come to light.

“I'm not saying I forgive you,” she told him after a while. “But I do understand you a little.”

“That's all I can really ask for.” He offered her his hand and she shook it, albeit with some trepidation.

“So, you never told me you had a sister.”

Guy was not thrilled to talk about his failings as an older brother, but he was determined that from that point forward he would be nothing but honest with Marian. So he told her the whole story -the good and the bad. Anything to show her that he had changed and that he was no longer the man she knew before.

He had reached the part of Archer and she was opening her mouth to ask something when I slight movement from inside the camp caught their attention.

“Robin?” They heard Kate ask.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, second cliff-hanger in a row. I'm sorry, but I really wanted Robin to have a whole chapter for himself.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so you know, this is my favourite chapter out of the whole bunch. Why, you ask? Because it has Robin and Marian and fluff and angst and basically everything I love of this fandom -hopefully. I hope you'll like it too. It's also the longest, because of course it is. It's Robin and Marian -how coul I resist?
> 
> Thanks again to everyone who's taking the time to read this, whether they are reviewing or not. It really means the world to me, even if I don't always show it replying to reviews in time.

**CHAPTER SEVEN.**

Everything hurt. That was his first thought.

The second one was that he shouldn’t hurt. He should be dead.

He opened his eyes with a great deal of effort and was met with a pair of bright blue eyes hovering anxiously over him.

The _wrong_ shade of blue.

“Robin?” the eyes asked. “Robin, can you hear me?”

He was absolutely drained of energy, so when his eyes slipped closed he made no effort to stop them. There wasn’t much to look at, anyway.

“Robin!” the female voice asked again. At the same time, he felt some footsteps nearby, a thumping sound, like a body pushing another out of the way, and muffled voices that seemed to be coming from very far away. He also felt fingers gently poking into him, trying to jerk him awake. Somewhere deep within, he noted that there were too many fingers for them to belong to the same person, but he didn't pause to think what that meant.

_So close,_ he thought. He had been _so close_ to ending it all, so close to being with his wife again. His skin still prickled where she had touched him -or at least, where he had _thought_ she had touched him. It had felt so _real_ …

“I’m not dead,” he remarked, eyes still closed. His mouth felt heavy, but his mind was becoming clearer by the second, so he felt the fingers stopped moving and he could sense at least a couple of bodies inching closer to him.  

“What?” Kate -for he knew now that it was her who sat on the edge of his cot- pressed.

“I’m not dead,” he said again. His tone did not convey even a hint of happiness for such development and when he finally mustered enough energy to open his eyes again, they were hard. “ _Why_ am I not dead?” he demanded.

Kate flinched slightly at his icy tone, so unfamiliar to her, and recoiled just a little bit as if stung. She had not expected that kind of reaction from him -he was supposed to be relieved -maybe even happy. He was _alive!_ -what more could he ask for?

But he wasn’t relieved. He was most certainly _not_ happy. He was mad and disappointed, but most of all, he was terrified of the prospect of having to live his life without Marian. Again.

He saw Kate’s face fall, but not a single fibre in him felt like reassuring her. He held on to his anger, because if he didn’t, he would have to face the void that he knew his life would become. He needed to feel that anger -he needed to feel _something_.

“I-” Kate started to say, oblivious to the complete and utter heartbreak the man before her was feeling. She was promptly interrupted, though, before she could think of anything else to say.

“Tsk, tsk,” said a different voice from Robin’s other side. “I save your life and that’s the thanks I get?”

His head turned in that direction so quickly that it hurt, but he didn’t care. He met Djaq’s amused expression and his jaw dropped.

“How are you feeling, Robin?” she asked him seriously, her fingers gently tracing the scar on his neck.

He was more curious than he'd thought he'd be at seeing his friend in England, and even more that she was back at the camp. But curiosity was not enough to fill the abyss that was his mind, his heart, his whole _being_. So he held on to his anger and pushed whatever questions he might have had out of his head for the time being.

“Like I should be dead. Which apparently I’m _not_.”

“I remembered you being more cheerful -must have been wrong.”

“And I remembered you being away. Must have been wrong too.”

“Anything hurt?” she continued, taking one of his arms in her hands to examine it and paying no attention whatsoever to his bitterness, much to his chagrin.

“ _Everything_ hurts.”

The woman chuckled slightly and continued her examination, but otherwise ignored his sour mood. This, he knew well, was no accident: Djaq had always been capable of reading him like a book, and she knew that the best way to deal with him when he got like this was not to play along. His inquisitive nature would usually win over everything else in the end.

She wasn’t wrong.

In the face of Djaq’s frustratingly collected manner, he was forced to acknowledge a million questions that a big part of him needed answers to. He wanted to know what had happened to him, how it was that he was alive and what on Earth was Djaq doing back in England, after working so hard to get back to her own homeland.

But most of all, though, he wanted to know the meaning of the voice he could faintly hear, breaking its way through his mind.

_Come quick, Djaq, help_ , it said. It sounded distant, like he was hearing it from a very long tunnel. But it was familiar -achingly so.

“You were poisoned,” Djaq informed him, sitting gingerly on the edge of his cot, her arms crossed over her chest. “I was _almost_ too late.” Her pain was undeniable, and so was her resentment. “You could try to be a little more careful when I’m not around.”

“You shouldn’t have bothered,” he muttered, looking away from her and fixing his eyes on a spot overhead. “You should have let me die.”

She gave out a throaty laugh that made him look back at her. He was surprised to see her face breaking into a grin and her eyes shining with a somewhat familiar mischief.

“So they’ve told me. I’ll keep it in mind for the next time. This time, though, since you weren’t conscious, I had to do as your wife instructed me.”

His blood turned to ice inside his veins. His heart, lethargic as it had been beating for months, picked up its pace and was now pounding against his ribs at an impossible rhythm.

_Wife, wife, wife_.

“Marian.”

He hadn’t realized that he had spoken out loud until he saw Djaq smile in a cat-got-the-mouse kind of way.

“Do you have any other wife that I don’t know about?” she asked with a wink. She got to her feet and took a step back.

Robin tried to sit up, but was too weak to do so. He didn’t care. Propping himself on one arm, he opened his mouth and was about to demand she told him why -or more importantly _how_ \- it was that his dead wife might have had a say in his well-being, but it was at that precise moment that he realized that his other arm was being firmly held on his side by someone.

Not _some_ one. Not just _any_ one.

He turned his head slowly, half eager, half terrified of what he might see when he did. His eyes landed on a hand -a small, delicate hand, with long, slender fingers and a ring that was too big on her fourth finger.

His eyes traveled across the hand, along the pale arm, to her shoulder, her collarbone, up her neck and jaw before finally setting on her eyes, he bright blue eyes -the _right_ shade of blue, his mind screamed-, eyes that were staring down at him with such love that it made him want to cry.

_Robin, I’m not dead_ , he heard the voice say, and this time it was accompanied by imagines: the same blue eyes looking utterly terrified up at him, her small hand on his cheek, her heart beating steadily under his fingers.

He had been hurt enough to know that he was going into shock. His mouth felt dry, his breathing shallow. He could feel darkness creeping in, but he refused to yield. He _had_ to stay conscious.

“Marian?” her name on his lips was half a question and half a prayer. His fingers trembled as he gripped her hand with all the force he had left, terrified that she would slip away if he let her go.

“As she lives and breathes,” Marian admitted, aiming to lighten the mood slightly. It didn’t work, though, for Robin continued to stare dumbly at her.

“You’re alive,” he said. Utter relief washed over him for a second, before realization dawned on him. “You’re _alive_ ,” he said again, his eyes slightly unfocused, as if he were looking at something far, far away. “I was poisoned and I almost _died_ . I thought I was going to see you again in the afterlife, but you are not dead. You are _here_ and you are _alive._ ” The words came in low and quick. He was starting to realize how close he had come to losing her again.

She placed one hand firmly on his cheek and leaned closer to him, trying to rid him of the panic that was obviously engulfing him. Though her heart ached for him, she kept her tone light, as she had seen him do a thousand times over the years, every time she had felt sad or lost.

“I _know_ ,” she pointed out. “I was the one who found you, in case you’ve forgotten. There I was, minding my own business, and suddenly there you are, talking about how you knew that you would find me again and that you knew that your wife would come to greet you in the afterlife. You scared the living wits out of-”

She didn’t get to finish her idea. Calling upon every ounce of strength he had left in his body, he rose to a sitting position at the same time as his free hand flew to her neck, pulling her towards him. She fell against his chest, pushing him against the hard surface of his cot, and he let go of her hand to snake his around her waist, pulling her closer still.

He kissed her deeply, hungrily, wanting - _needing_ \- to make sure that she was real, that she was there and that she was his to hold. She replied in kind, every bit as moved as he was by their recent near miss. His hand roamed up and down her back and hers moved just as eagerly down his chest, before coming to rest just above his heart.

Their friends were trying to show their support by staying out of the way as they got reacquainted with each other, but such a kiss was not to be shared by a couple -however married they might be, or how much they had missed each other- in public, and the rest of the outlaws were starting to feel just a little bit uncomfortable.

Allan cleared his throat, which made the couple remember where they were.

Robin groaned, which made Marian chuckle, but she did pull away - _reluctantly_ \- from her husband. She sat with her back against the wall and helped him do the same. They looked a little more proper -certainly not as if they would start undressing each other at a moment’s notice-, but remained awfully close, with one of his arms firmly wrapped around her waist and his other hand held tightly in both of hers.

“So,” Robin began conversationally, struggling to focus on their audience and not his wife’s warm body pressed against his side. “Anyone going to tell me what happened?” It was said to the group at large, but his eyes did linger on Will when they found him. After all, he assumed, he had had something to do with his wife sudden resurrection.

It was the young man who replied, telling him the same story he had shared a short while before with the rest of his friends and making sure he understood that they had had little to do with Marian’s initial survival, lest his famous temper find a way to blame _them_ for something that had clearly not been their fault.

“You see what this means, right?” Tuck asked when the story was done.

Robin had listened in silence, his expression becoming darker and darker with each word that came out of his friend’s mouth. For the longest moment he didn’t say anything, he just sat there, his hand drumming incessantly against Marian’s upper thigh.

“I do,” he said at last, slowly -carefully.

Most of the outlaws were struck by his tone, but it was only Much and Marian who recognized it for what it was: _dangerous_. A storm was brewing within him.

“Great! So, I propose that some of us should start making our way towards Vienna and you can join us when you feel better. Your wife will want to stay with you, and Much too, but the rest of us-” Tuck continued, oblivious to this.

“Nobody is going to Vienna,” Robin cut him off. He met Tuck’s eye and continued. “I mean, _you_ may do as you like -and everyone else for that matter. But if you expect me to join you there -or, more likely, if you expect _Robin Hood_ to embark on a rescue mission for the King in Vienna, you’re in for a _big_ disappointment.”

“You're still weak, I know, but when you feel better-”

“No! Robin Hood stays here.”

“Robin, it's the King!” John tried to reason. Now that his friend appeared to be reasonably safe, he could agree with Tuck that they needed to focus on their sovereign’s safety.

“The King can rot in prison for all I care.”

The outlaws were horrified at such blasphemous statement, more so because it was coming from Robin, of all people -Robin, who had always been loyal to Richard, who had gone to great lengths to ensure his safety, his return.

He met their gaze with a dark, defiant expression. His whole body was tense, daring them to try to change his mind.

His expression was gloom enough to deter everyone else from pushing the matter further for the time being -even Tuck, desperate as he was to rescue their rightful sovereign. All but Marian, who knew him too well to be fooled by him.

“Robin, we both know you don’t mean that, so cut the act,” she pointed out, fixing him with a stern look.

She pressed one of her hands to his cheek and his whole demeanor changed -his expression softened, his body relaxed. He entwined his fingers with hers and met her eyes, but she was surprised to find anguish in them, not mirth.

“You are alive,” he said again, needing to remind himself over and over that the nightmare was finally over and that his wife had come back to him. “All these months you've been alive, and I've been here, believing you dead, counting down the days until I could join you, and all the while, you were there, alone in the desert.”

“I wasn't alone -Will and Djaq were with me.”

He smiled at her -one of those cheeky grins that had been absent from his face for so long.

“Because Djaq saved my life, I’m trying very hard not to think about the fact that they _knew_ you were alive and didn't tell me,” he chanced a glance towards his friend who shrugged in response. Then he continued: “But there's no excuse for what the King did. He _knew_ how I felt, he _knew_ I would have given everything to get one more second with you. He _knew_ you -my wife, my heart, my _life_ \- were alive and still he didn’t tell me. I deserved to know.”

“And then what would you have done? You would have dropped everything and rushed to my side!”

“ _Yes_ , you’re damn right I would have! You're my wife, I should have been there with you.”

Marian could sense his temper rising and she could tell from past experiences that they would end up in a fight unless she found a way to calm him down. Their friends were once again studiously ignoring them -it was up to her to bring him back from the brink. He was still weak -there would be plenty of time for one of their famous arguments when he felt better. For now, he needed to focus his energy on getting healthy again.

She took both his hands in hers and started rubbing her thumbs across the palms of his hands.

“I know how you feel,” she told him softly. “If it had been the other way around, I would have most certainly wanted to be with you. I would have sat by your side day in and day out and the whole world could have been burning down for all that I would have cared. But the King was right not to tell you, first because he didn't know if I was going to make it and then because there was no guarantee that you would have made it before we came back.

“Besides, your place has always been here, in England. Your peasants needed you here and you were more help to them that you could have been to me. You did the right thing, Robin, even if you didn't have a choice.”

“I'm sick of always doing the right thing,” he muttered, but Marian could tell that he had calmed down significantly. He had seen her point -as she had known he would. Robin was not an idiot.

Djaq decided to take the opportunity to examine her patient again. She checked him for a fever -which he didn't have- and made sure that the several cuts she had made were healing nicely -which they were.

“You should rest,” she finally instructed. “You’ve had a difficult day.”

Robin chuckled as he allowed both women to help him lie down.

“You can say that again.”

Marian lay next to him, her head on the hollow of his neck, her arm wrapped across his chest, pulling him close to her. They were the picture of ease.

“For what it's worth,” she commented lightly, exhaustion finally getting to her as well. They had been traveling non-stop for weeks, ever since that dreadful day in Vienna, and she had spent the last few hours in a barely-contained panic -of course she was exhausted. “I wish you had been there with me. Actually, if I'm wishing, I wish Gisborne hadn't tried to kill me in the first place.”

The change was immediate -she noticed it at once. His whole body went tense again and his breathe caught in his throat.

“Gisborne,” he hissed.

She had half a second to brace herself before she was roughly dislodged from him as Robin -with a shockingly swift move, considering his recent brush with death- jumped from the bed.

“I'm going to kill him,” he announced to no one in particular. He caught sight of Gisborne -who had had the sense of staying out sight of his former enemy-turned-reluctant-ally- and moved as if to pounce before his path was blocked by John. “I'm going to kill you,” he said, pushing against the larger man. Judging by his tone of voice, it was clear he meant it.

“You're not going to be killing anyone today, Robin.” John explained patiently. “Go back to your bed.”

Robin did not move.

“Robin,” Much tried. “You're weak, you need to rest.”

“I will rest,” Robin agreed. “After I’ve killed Gisborne!”

He made it to move again, only to be blocked by John -also again.

“I don't understand -you didn't kill him when you thought he'd killed Marian, why would you kill him now?”

Robin looked away from his prey long enough to glare at Allan, who chuckled in return.

“Not helping,” Will pointed out.

“Wasn't trying to.”

Between John and Much they were eventually able to force Robin back to his cot, but he clearly wasn't pleased. He looked as if he were calculating the best way to get passed his guards -which he was.

“Robin, be reasonable,” Marian urged.

When he heard her voice the anger drained from his body and when he turned it was true panic that shone in his eyes.

“Marian, I am _so_ sorry,” he said, with so much urgency that Marian wanted nothing more than to cradle him to her chest. His words came out quick and desperate, as if he needed them to get off his chest or else he might die of them. “You have to believe that I had _no_ intention of letting him live -when I came back I was ready to murder him in cold blood and damn the consequences. But then… Then I realized that he was in hell -that he actually _wanted_ me to kill him and bring him some respite- and I didn't want him to get off so easily.

“Still, I _should_ have killed him. I wanted to, so many times. But then my father -my father is alive, did they tell you? My father told me about Archer and I -I just couldn't do it.”

She had already forgiven him for admitting her would-be killer into their midst -she didn't have a choice, after hearing the whole story from Much and Guy- but it was only now, hearing the words from his own mouth, seeing his pain rolling off of him in waves, that she really understood what it had been like for him, forced to work every day with a man he hated with all his might, remembering every single day of what he had done, what he had taken from him.

“I’m really, sorry, Marian. Please know that I’ve had to live with myself all these months for not killing Gisborne when I had the chance.”

He looked small and scared -so unlike the Robin she was so used to. For a moment she hated herself, for making him look so hopeless, but she reminded herself that all was well. He would never have to look like that again -she was with him.

“I admit it was a shock seeing him,” she laid her head on his chest as she talked, comforting and taking comfort from him at the same time. “But I'm not mad at you for failing to kill him -not really. I would have understood if you had, but I wasn't lying when I told you that I would never support killing.”

“Gisborne would have deserved it.”

“Perhaps, but there's no use thinking of that right now.”

She was right, of course. He hadn't killed Gisborne when he had had the chance, so now he would have to learn to live with him. Besides, he had more important things to focus on than Gisborne.

“You look exhausted,” he commented after a while, his eyes intent on her face. With all the shock of her resurrection, it was only now that he was taking a closer look at her.

“I know, I've had a difficult day -my husband almost died in my arms today.”

He chuckled but tighten his grip on her waist.

“I can understand what that feels like,” he admitted. “We make quite the pair, don't we?”

“Indeed! What would we do without Djaq?”

As if on cue, the Saracen appeared in their line of vision.

“I hope for both your sakes that you never have to find out,” she said, inciting another chuckle from the pair on the cot. She smiled too, pleased to see both her friends so at ease. She had only had a glimpse at Robin’s heartache during that first painful week but she had seen plenty of Marian’s. Seeing both of them laughing again gave her more pleasure than she could express with words. “Rest, both of you.”

“What are you guys going to do?” Marian asked, already half asleep. “The camp is not big enough for all of us.”

“We’ll figure something out, don't worry. Now sleep. You're still healing too.”

There was no reply, not that Djaq had been expecting one. She checked Robin's vitals one last time and then walked back to where the rest of her friends stood discussing their sleeping arrangements.

“I can build a bigger camp, but it's going to take time,” Will was saying when she reached them.

“We still need something for the near future. There's no way all eleven of us are going to fit in this camp,” Tuck pointed out.

He was right. The original camp had been built for six. Marian's occasional addition had never posed a problem because she had been sharing Robin's bed for years, ever since they were but kids and Robin had gone to Knighton well after dark to share with his friend the details of his day. Sharing a bed for them had always been about so much more than the physical act of love; it had been about being together.

Tuck and Kate had taken the spots left vacant by Will and Djaq when they had stayed behind in the Holy Land, but now they were back. Also, for the past few weeks, Guy had been sleeping in a pallet on the floor, but he would eventually need a spot if he was to stay -as would Archer. There was no way their current camp could house all of them.

“There’s the cave,” Allan suggested. “It’s not the most comfortable place, but it’s dry, and reasonably warm. We used to camp there before this was built,” he explained to the rest of them.

“And it’s close by?”

“A few yards down east.”

“Then I suggest we divide ourselves into two groups,” Tuck decided.

“I’m staying here with Robin,” Much announced. “You should go to the cave,” he added to Gisborne. “Marian seems to have quenched his thirst for blood for now, but there’s no telling how he’s going to react when he wakes up.”

Guy was not a fan of being told what to do, but he did see Much’s point, so he reluctantly agreed to relocate.

“I’ll go with Guy. Maybe it would be wiser if you stayed with him, just in case he takes a turn for the worse during the night?” Archer said to Djaq tentatively. He was still unsure of his place in the gang, especially with the turn things had taken lately. He was eager to talk to someone about everything -maybe Guy or better yet, Robin. For now, though, he would have to follow someone else’s lead.

“That’s a good idea. So Much, Will and I will stay here while the rest of you-”

“I want to stay too,” Kate jumped in.

Everyone turned to look at her.

“Kate-”

“What? You think that just because his so-called wife is back I should quietly leave him? He almost died today, he's not thinking clearly!”

“He _is_ , Kate!”

Kate’s bright blue eyes blazed and she looked ready to press her point. However, outnumbered as she clearly was, she allowed herself to be shepard away by Archer and Allan -for the time being, at least.

Once their party was out of the camp, the remaining outlaws set about making the necessary arrangements to ensure their safety for the night, however unlikely they were to be attacked after the events of the day. Finally, they went to sleep.

Will and Djaq reclaimed their old spots. The beds were hard, the blankets not thick enough to battle the cold. Still, neither one of them would have prefered to be anywhere else.

“It’s good to be home, isn’t it?,” he said.

Djaq simply smiled in return.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, remember me? Happy New Year, everyone! Sorry for the delay posting this.
> 
> Okay, full disclosure... I really don't like this chapter: after rereading it time and time again I've come to the conclusion that I don't agree with everything I've written and that there's far too much dialogue (and very little action). I really did try to fix it, but I'm completely stuck. In the end I decided to post it as it is and hopefully fix things with chapter nine. I hope you don't mind all that much. 
> 
> I'm going out of town in a few hours on holidays, so I might take even more time replying to reviews. Don't get me wrong, I *will* get to them, only later. And while we are on that subject, allow me to apologize to those of you who've left reviews on ff.net. I'm really behind on my replies there. Rest assured that I will get to them eventually, though. 
> 
> Last but no least and I'll leave you to your reading... My birthday is coming up, so it would mean the world to me if, as a gift, you gave me reviews. Again, I might not always be the best at replying to messages, but I read each and every single word people send me and it warms me to the bottom of my heart. This truly is the greatest fandom that I've ever been a part of.

**CHAPTER EIGHT** **.**

The first thing that Much usually did when he woke up was glance at his master’s cot to check if he required any assistance. This was a long ingrained habit that he hadn’t been able to get rid of even now that they had been outlawed and he was no longer a servant in the most traditional of ways, but that still came in handy on occasions like this, when Robin had been hurt somehow. So when Much awoke and took a look at Robin’s side of the camp, he was fully expecting to find his friend struggling to get up, too weak to do it on his own. 

That was not what he saw.

Marian was sleeping peacefully, one hand under the pillow and the other laying across the cot, her dark curls falling messily over her face. Her husband, however, was nowhere in sight. 

“Where’s Robin?” Much demanded, loudly. 

She woke up at that, as did their other companions. 

“What?” Will asked sleepily, rubbing his eyes to rid them of sleep.

“Robin,” Much repeated. “Where is he?”

Marian looked around herself, realization dawning slowly on her. 

“He’s not here,” she said. 

“I know.  _ Where _ is he?”

Djaq muttered a curse in arabic as she jumped to her feet. 

“We need to find him. He probably doesn’t realize how weak he is.  _ Idiot _ . Not you,” she added, seeing that Marian was already grabbing her weapons.

“Why on earth not?” she demanded. 

“Because you’re hurt too!”

“I’m not  _ that _ hurt. Besides, we’ve been travelling for weeks and I’ve been perfectly fine.”

“Yes, and it’s  _ precisely _ because we’ve been travelling for weeks that you promised that you would rest when we got home!”

“I was  _ going to _ , but I can’t now that my  _ husband is missing! _ ”

“He’s probably gone out to get some air. He’ll be back soon,” Will reasoned, though Marian was not reassured. 

Much was unconcerned with the whole conversation -he cared only about finding his friend. He grabbed his sword -another long ingrained habit, he wasn't anticipating he'd be attacked any time soon- and set out on his quest.

He hadn't gone very far when he almost crashed against Sir Malcolm’s son -just not the one he had been expecting.

Having grown tired of the tension in the cave -what with Tuck’s disappointment at not going to help the King, Kate’s anger that she was being kept away from Robin and the general tension Guy’s mere presence incited among the outlaws-, Archer had decided to go for a walk. He needed time and space to wrap his mind around everything that had happened to him in the course of a few short weeks. He also needed to come up with a way to get Robin alone and demand some answers, specifically about his wife’s miraculous resurrection and Guy’s role in her death. 

He wasn't paying much attention to where he was going until he heard quick footsteps making their way towards him. He halted just in time to avoid colliding against Much.

“Oh, it's just you,” said the servant, his disappointment evident.

“And a good morning to you too!” He replied cheerfully.

Much paid him no mind.

“Have you seen Robin?”

Archer frowned.

“I thought he was supposed to be with you.”

“So he hasn't gone to the cave to finish Gisborne?”

“Not that I could tell -Guy was alive and well when I left him. Besides, I doubt Robin would have been able to make it the cave without help, judging by how he was yesterday.”

“I know! But I'm afraid he might have tried anyway.”

“What happened, Much?”

Sighing, Much explained that Robin was missing.

Archer was genuinely concerned for his brother’s safety, so he quickly decided to help Much out.

“Well, I haven't seen him on my way here, so I don't think that was where he was headed.”

“There's another place he might go,” Much mused to himself. If Robin had intended to go to the place Much suspected he would want to go (and Much was pretty certain that he was right), there were two possible roads he could have taken. It would be quicker, he decided, to confide in Archer: they could each take one path and meet in the middle. Considering that Robin had probably collapsed somewhere, it would be in his best interest to find him sooner rather than later.

The younger man saw the sense in his plan right away, so they parted ways. 

Unfortunately for Much, it was Archer who proved successful.

Robin was sitting against a tree, not very far from the camp. To the untrained eyed, it might have looked as if he just were basking in the sunlight -his brother, however, knew better. He was pale, really pale, so Archer could tell that he was sitting where he had probably collapsed, too spent to take another step. 

“Enjoying the weather, are we?” He asked, sitting himself next to him. He had gotten his wish -Robin was alone and free to talk. He intended to make the most of it. “You gave your friends quite the scare.”

Robin chuckled. 

“Who sent you? Much or Marian?”

“Much,” he admitted. “Though I don't think your wife will be too happy with you either.”

The faint smile turned into a grin.

“Oh, she won't. She'll be furious at me.”

“And yet you don't seem too concerned about it.”

“Marian spends half her time furious at me. That's how she shows she cares.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, until Archer decided to broach the subject that had been eating at him for the last twelve hours.

“Guy killed her. That's why you hate him.”

“He didn't kill her. I thought he had, but he didn't,” Robin explained, the smile leaving his face.

“Same different. You hate Guy, and yet you worked with him to get me out of trouble. Why?”

Robin didn't immediately reply. 

“I don't think that  _ hate _ accurately describes my feelings for Guy,” he explained. “For the longest time I thought I did. On the ship, as we were making our way back after - _ what he did _ \- I was so sure that I hated him. I came up with a thousand different ways to end his life, each more gruesome than the last. And then, when the time came I realized that I couldn't do it.”

“Why? What changed?”

“I saw him -probably for the first time since we were kids. I realized that I didn't hate him. I pitied him.”

Robin had had a lot of time to think things over and each time he had arrived at the same inevitable conclusion: Guy of Gisborne was a victim of his circumstances -not completely blameless, by any means, but worthy of some leniency nonetheless.

“He loved her,” Robin continued, feeling Archer’s questions hanging in the air between them. “In a sick, completely wrong way. He didn't really know her, but he still loved her -or at least he thought he did.”

“But she didn't love him?”

“Oh, she did -or, at least, I think she did, on some level.”

“Just not as much as she loves you.”

“It's not that simple. Marian and I -it goes much deeper than just love. For the longest time, I was so used to everyone giving me a pass because of who I was. I was always getting in trouble, but because I was Robin, Lord of Locksley and Earl of Huntingdon, everyone just let me get away with everything. It was fun for a while, but sometimes I just needed someone to call me off. Much did, sometimes, but since he was technically my servant, there was only so much he could say or do.

“And then along came Marian.

“I didn't think much about her when we first met. She was the daughter of the new Sheriff, a few years younger than me and completely unremarkable.” Robin paused, the grin back on his face as he thought back to that time. “Or so I thought. I hardly saw her at first, since she was always with her tutor when I went to see Edward. But then one day Edward was out and she was alone, so I decided to talk to her -the same way I usually talked to all girls those days.”

Archer had seen enough of his brother to know what he meant.

“You flirted with her.”

“I was fourteen! That's all I knew to do,” he replied defensively. “But yeah, I flirted with her. Or tried to, anyway. She shot me off systematically. Now, anyone else would have probably dropped it. I could have had my pick of girls all over the shire, the fact that one of them didn't want anything to do with me shouldn't have been a problem. Except that it was.

“So I kept trying. I started going to Knighton to see her, not Edward. I would seek her out after the Council of Nobles or I would go with her to Market Day, or we would sneak into Sherwood so I could teach her how to fight. We became friends -good friends- but there wasn't anything romantic about our relationship. When I asked her to marry me the first time, it wasn't because I was in love with her -that I knew of, anyway. I just needed a wife and she needed a husband, and we both thought we could be reasonably happy together: I knew the kind of woman that Marian was and she knew the kind of man that I was. Neither of us held unreasonable expectations about the other.”

“You said ‘when you asked her to marry you for the  _ first _ time’ -I take it you asked her more than once?”

“Yes. Our first engagement ended rather abruptly when I decided to go to the Holy Land. I had to work to get her to agree a second time. 

“And that's my whole point. It's not that I love Marian -which I only realized I did the second that I left. It also isn't that she loves me more than she loves Guy. Her and I -we are destined to be together, I think. She's my soulmate -as much a part of me as any one of my limbs. 

“It took me a while to understand this,” Robin continued. “When I lost her the first time -or thought I'd lost her, at least, when I left and she promised me she wouldn't be there when I came back- I realized how much I loved her and needed her in my life. The second time, when she died in my arms, when I held her as she took her last breaths - _ allegedly _ \- and I felt like I was dying too, I realized that she was a part of me -that she would  _ always  _ be a part of me.

“So, you see, I don't really hate Gisborne. I pity him, because he never really had a chance.”

“That's -surprisingly mature of you.”

“That isn't to say that I haven't wanted to kill him for time to time,” Robin added. “The first time I saw him when I returned I could have killed him. But I didn't, for whatever reason, and when our father came back and told me that I had to work with him it was relatively simple to focus on that instead of my anger. It was the only way I found to stay sane these past few weeks.”

“Have you talked to Guy about this?”

“No, I haven't had the heart to look at him, let alone bare my soul to him.” He paused. “But you're probably right -I should. It should be easier now that Marian is not dead.”

“Speaking of which, why aren't you with her?”

“There is something that I wanted to do before everyone woke up,” Robin replied mysteriously. “Evidently I have failed.”

“Yeah, well, I hear that almost dying can really take a toll on someone.”

Robin knew that his plan to go back to the oak tree was out of the question now. He should have known that he wouldn’t be able to get there without help, but he had woken up, found Marian lying across his chest and known that there was something that he simply  _ had _ to do. He hadn’t even thought of waiting for Much -which he should have, in retrospect. 

His friend would be furious when he returned -as would Marian. Robin knew this, but really didn’t care. Quite the opposite, the prospect of having both of them fussing over him and telling him off for disappearing on them made him feel more alive than he had felt in almost a year: with Much and Marian, he had always known that they cared out of genuine concern -not because they felt he had a certain role to play and he should stay safe to play it. 

He had missed feeling so well cared for. Much had tried, but it hadn’t been the same. 

“Give us a hand, will you?” he asked Archer. He felt well-rested enough to go back, but he still needed some assistance getting to his feet.

Archer, however, didn’t move. Robin chanced a look in his direction and he realized that he didn’t seem to have heard him, so deep in thought he was. 

“Anything else bothering you?” he asked him kindly. He figured his brother still had a lot to process, so it might be a good idea to talk to him now that they were alone. 

“Yeah, a little. It’s about something you said.” He paused, gathering his thoughts for a moment, and then went on. “How can you trust Guy after everything he’s done? Even if you’ve learned to understand him, that’s one thing -but to  _ trust _ him?”

Robin could sense that they weren’t really talking about Gisborne, but he knew better than to say anything. If Archer wanted to project his own insecurities into Gisborne, far be it for Robin to call him out for it. 

“I wouldn’t say I  _ trust _ him,” he replied carefully. 

“You said you were confident he’d be a good master to your people,” Archer challenged. 

Robin smiled. 

“That isn’t to say that I trust Gisborne! Just that I trust  _ my men  _ to keep an eye on him!” his brother looked at him in confusion, so Robin explained. “You must have noticed that I didn’t hand Locksley down just like that -neither to Guy nor to you. You are Sir Malcolm’s son, so it is your birthright -or it will be if I die without heirs-, and Gisborne was raised as a noble, so he has some idea of how to run a state -the fact that he’s been doing it wrong for most his life notwithstanding. So of course I said the two of you should manage Locksley in my stead. However, I never said I trusted either of you -you because I hardly know you and him because I know him too much. Who I do trust, though, are my men: Much, John, Allan and Tuck would have been able to help you out while also keeping you in check.”

“So when you said you entrusted them to me, what you actually meant was-”

“-that I was entrusting you to them, exactly,” Robin agreed, smiling cooly. “I just figured this sounded better.”

Archer shrugged. 

“I supposed you were right. You have no reason to trust me, after what I did-”

Robin pressed a hand to the younger man’s shoulder. 

“I  _ want _ to trust you, Archer, and I’m sure I will, in time. You are young and reckless. Isabella promised you power and riches, and you took them. You made a choice and it turned out to be the wrong one. The important thing now is that you don’t let it define you.”

As he talked, the older man couldn't help but draw a parallel between his brother's history and his own.

He hadn't been much older than Archer when he had decided to drop everything and leave for the Holy Land. The King, like Isabella, had offered him what he most desired -not power and riches, but a purpose and recognition. Robin had gladly agreed to join his cause.

That decision had epically backfired, so the young Lord had been left to put his life back together, piece by piece. It had been hard, and at times he had felt like giving up, but now -now that his wife was back, and his enemy was dead- he could tell that all of it had been worth it.

“I'm excited to have the chance to get to know the man you'll become after this, Archer,” he told him honestly.

“And to think you almost missed it all,” the younger man replied, his eyes glistening with the same familiar mischief that was usually present in his brother's eyes. 

“True,” he agreed. “So we're good?”

They were. Robin's words had helped to put Archer's mind at ease. He was still unsure of his place in the gang, but at least now he was certain that he could count with at least one of his brothers to have his back. That was enough for now.

He opened his mouth to suggest that maybe they should get back to the camp, seeing that Robin had been away from it for so long, when they both saw Much making his way down the road towards them.

“I know, I know,” Robin said immediately. “I should have told you where I was going, but-”

“I know  _ exactly _ where you were going,” Much cut in, his jaw set and his shoulders squared.

His master blinked in surprise.

“What? No, you don't.” Much simply reached out into his pocket and pulled a small object out, which he then proceeded to throw at Robin. “How-?”

“How did I know that was what you were after?”

“I was going to ask how did you know where it was, but sure, let's go with yours.”

“Because I _ know _ you, Robin! That's how I knew.”

Robin flinched slightly at his tone.

“You do know me,” he agreed. “I know, I'm sorry, Much.”

“You almost died. Do you have  _ any idea _ of what that was like?”

“Yeah, I was there, remember?”

“Of course I remember! The question is do you?” He heaved a long sigh. “Look, you were hurt, you almost died -it was rather awful for the rest of us -having to watch helplessly as you went around saying goodbye. So please, could you  _ try _ to give us a rest for a while? At least until the shock of almost losing you wears off a little. Just…  _ Be careful _ , okay?”

Robin could see Much’s heartache written plainly on his face. He had really hurt him by almost dying -one of the many ways he had hurt him over the years.

“I will, Much,” he vowed. He paused, struggling to find the right words to say what he knew he must say. Much was his best friend, he deserved to hear it. “Listen, about what I told you yesterday-”

“You thought you were going to die, that's why you said -what you said. Yeah, I know. Don't worry, I won't make a big deal out of it.”

“No, that's not it, Much. I  _ did _ think I was going to die, so that  _ was  _ why I said it, but what I meant now was that I shouldn't have waited until I was almost dead to say it. You know that it's very hard for me to open up, but still, that's no excuse. You are my best friend, Much -I should have told you much sooner.”

Much's eyes filled with tears and his breath hitched in his throat at Robin's words. 

“I'm sorry that I'm constantly hurting you. Please believe that it was completely unintentional.”

“Yeah, I know.” He sighed. “Just  _ try _ to be more careful, would you?”

“I will. Promise, no more fool’s errands for me. Not for a few days, at least.”

He winked, his eyes bright with mischief. Much knew that look all too well.

“And what is going to happen after a few days?” he asked, both resigned and horrified.

“I have a plan. Well-” he amended. “- _ half _ a plan.”


End file.
